


Two Hours and Then Midnight

by CallMeHux



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Costume Parties & Masquerades, F/M, Fluff, Modern AU, New Year's Eve, Oneshot, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 21:03:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9142123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallMeHux/pseuds/CallMeHux
Summary: When her New Years's Eve plans fall through after discovering she's the other woman, Clarke shows up at Octavia's fancy New Years' Eve party looking for a distraction.  She finds one - a tall, dark and handsome distraction in an interesting mask.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For Iamblakelocked, based on the following prompt "masquerade ball on new years eve. Mystery midnight kiss?"
> 
> I hope you like it!

Clarke's original plan for New Years' Eve was to go to the fancy party at the top of the tallest building in town, dance with her boyfriend and kiss him at midnight.  That plan died on Christmas Eve, when his actual girlfriend arrived in town for a surprise visit.  

So, on one hand, she ended up being the other woman, making it the worst Christmas ever.  On the other hand, she found out she was the other woman before she fell deeply in love with a lying piece of shit and she met his cool, now ex-girlfriend, Raven.  In fact, Raven was crashing at her place since she dumped Finn.  

But Raven had found an old friend's New Years' Eve party to go to, since they'd decided six days of commiserating with each other was enough.  And so, almost last minute, Clarke had RSVP'd to Octavia's masquerade party, the woman she'd met in one of the art classes she taught this past fall.  Getting dressed up, including wearing a mask, sounded great, an easy way to get back to being social after her epic break-up by putting a carefully crafted version of herself out there.  Her gown and her mask would be her armor.  

Still, she was nervous as she knocked on the townhouse door, her mask in hand.  Anxious at the prospect of meeting new people, she nonetheless felt sure she was doing the right thing.  Finn didn't know Octavia and was unlikely to be there and Clarke liked the fact she'd be able hide most of her face beyond the mask she'd picked up so many years ago and only now would be able to use.

The door opened and she saw a huge, muscled dark-skinned man in an elegant tuxedo.  She blinked in surprise before she recalled.  "Oh, hi, you must be Lincoln, right?  I'm Clarke," she introduced herself.

"Clarke, it's good to meet you," he confirmed, stepping back to let her inside.  "Almost everyone is here."

"Great," she replied, before being nearly tackled in a hug by Octavia.  Even though she was wearing a domino mask, her friend's silhouette and long, gorgeous hair was unmistakeable.  

"Yay, Clarke, you made it!  Love your dress!"

Clarke just laughed, waving down to the strapless royal blue gown she wore whose hems were edged with the electric blue of a hot flame.  "Thanks.  This was something I bought on a whim over a year ago, and this is the first time I've had a chance to wear it, so thank you for inviting me!"

"And you brought a mask too," Lincoln noted after shutting the door.  "May I?"

Clarke handed over the orange and burnished gold mask fashioned out of leather and embellished with gold and silver sparkles.  "Almost the same story, actually," she admitted.  "I saw this years ago at a Ren Faire and bought it, but then it just sat around just being pretty until tonight."

"It's really well done, this craftsmanship," Lincoln complimented.  "I have a friend who works in leather, Nyko.  If you don't mind, can I take a picture to show him?"

"Sure," Clarke agreed.  "Do you want me to be wearing it or just…"

Lincoln ended up taking a picture of the mask by itself and then another one after she put it on with Octavia's help.  

"Well, you pretty much have the best mask at the party," Octavia told her afterwards with a grin as she looped her arm with Clarke's and lead her to the living room.  "Most people are just using the little black superhero style masks I collected, but you're one of the few who brought their own."

Octavia and Lincoln's place had one of those open floor plans and they'd made the most of the space for the party that evening.  The overhead lights had been dimmed so that the fairy twinkle lights they'd put up all over the ceiling stood out, along with the tea lights they'd set all over in cool glass lanterns on the bookshelves and tables.  

"O, this is so beautiful!" Clarke gushed.

"Thanks.  Linc did most of the work, actually with the decorations, while I worked on the food."  While she detailed all the options, Clarke looked around the room to see who else had brought their own mask.

There was one woman who she later found out was named Harper, wearing this delicate, black lace mask that she revealed she'd picked up from Ebay.  Two others, friends of Octavia's called Monty and Jasper, were wearing steampunk goggle contraptions which they explained were part of their LARP costumes.  There were one or two others in the crowd too, but Clarke found herself drawn to a man in a metal mask standing near the patio doors, staring out at the backyard with a glass of red wine in his hand.

She tried to tell herself that she was just wandering over to him because the mask he wore was so interesting, but if she was being honest, the way he filled out his dark suit made a big impression on her.  He was all tousled black locks and tan skin and broad shoulders and as she neared, she found that he actually had freckles dusting the parts of his face that she could see.

So sue her, she wanted to talk to a little eye candy. Well, not  _ little _ . At least she wasn't sitting home alone on New Years', feeling betrayed and angry and lonely.

"That's a really interesting mask," was her opening salvo, because she didn't think  _ you're hot and I'm lonely so let's chat _ was a good way to start a conversation.

His attention shifted and she smiled slightly to see his gaze dip to take in her body.  She knew she looked good but it was always nice to get external validation.  "Uh…," he began, clearly taken off-guard.  "Hello," he began awkwardly, which charmed her for no good reason.  Perhaps it was the unexpected deep rumble of his voice.  "Um, sorry, you..ah."  He cleared his throat.  "You caught me kind of zoning out.  What was the question?"

She chuckled, biting her lip for a moment.  "I didn't ask a question at all, just said your mask is really interesting.  But, if you need a question, how about...where did you find that?"

He reached up with his free hand to touch the silver metal.  "This?  This was a friend's mistake, actually.  We're, ah."  She couldn't tell, exactly, in the low light, but she thought he blushed.  "We're reenactors, of historical battles.  Not really the Civil War, but older battles?  Anyway, he was making a gladiator helmet, just for fun, and, wow, I never realized how nerdy this sounds."  

"It sounds interesting, actually.  I mean, you scored points just by starting your story that way and not with a mention of your frat brothers, or something like that," she answered, giving him an encouraging smile.

"Didn't have time for frats when I was in school.  Not really interested in them anyway," he began, before returning to his story, which apparently was that while making a face plate for a gladiator helmet, his friend screwed up the cheek portions and ended up only with a half mask which he then embellished because "at least it would look cool."  The end result was a polished steel mask with wings on the sides and delicate filigree work to delineate the feathers.

"How did you end up with it?"

He grinned suddenly and she was struck by his brilliant white smile.  "Won in a poker game.  Was just a trophy on my desk until O decided to hold a formal masquerade party, I guess to prove we're all adults now," he related.  "And yours?" he asked, smiling again at her laugh.

"Ren Faire purchase awhile ago.  It just looked cool."  She cocked her head.  "I'm guessing you're either enthusiastic about Ren Faires in general or really annoyed by the historical inaccuracies."

He chuckled.  "Both?  Definitely both.  There's cool things at Ren Faires, particularly the demonstrations of older crafting techniques that are historically accurate.  But they also get people interested in and excited about history and being a history teacher, I think that's good value as well." 

"I'm glad to hear it.  I love the Ren Faire, I always have a good time. I always end up watching the glass blowing demonstration," she admitted.  "And buying a pickle on a stick."

He laughed again.  "Not the giant turkey leg?"

"No, never.  Actually, I'm partial to the Italian stand, they have this completely anachronistic pasta salad with mozzarella in it, but I love it."

He hesitated, watching her for a long moment, and she thought perhaps she'd said something wrong.  But then he beamed at her and asked, "Can I get you a drink or something?"

Clarke ducked her head for a moment as a flood of happiness bubbled up inside of her.  "Is that wine any good?  If so, I'll have a glass."

He nodded quickly and she watched him with irrational fondness, for all she'd known him for a handful of minutes but still didn't know his name.  When he returned, she opened her mouth to ask him that very question, but he spoke before she could get a word out.

"Apparently, we've already run out of the wine I was drinking, but O assured me that this is as good, if not better," he described, offering her a glass with a darker red than the one in his own.

She murmured her thanks and took a cautious sip, then gave him a surprised look.  "It's good.  I really like it.  I'll have to ask O what wine this is."

"You a big wine drinker?" he asked, mimicking her smile.

"No, not at all.  I like what I like, basically?  So it's rare when I really like a wine and then I buy like, three bottles so I have it on hand when I want to drink wine.  Which, really doesn't happen often," she allowed.  

He nodded understandingly.  "I'm not a wine person, myself.  A good bottle of wine is usually wasted on me, because I probably couldn't tell an okay wine from a great wine."

They chatted about wine for a few minutes, then segued into talking about food and the restaurants they preferred in town.  They both agreed that hole-in-the-wall places tended to have the best food and she was surprised to learn that they both lived in the takeout zone of Tom Toms, which for her money was the best Korean/Japanese restaurant in the city.

Before she quite knew it, almost two hours passed and she and her mystery man had spent the whole time talking.  They tried all the hor d'oeuvres Octavia had made, both quietly agreeing that her reinterpretation of deviled eggs didn't need a second sampling, argued about the best way to get from Center City to shore, and even complained about the lack of real appointment TV shows.

"I know what you mean.  I have shows I want to watch, but they end up stacking up in my DVR because nothing needs to be watched urgently," he agreed.  "Then I end up eight episodes behind and now I don't care enough to watch the show for eight hours to catch up."

She giggled.  "Okay, I'm not that bad, but yeah, I definitely get the whole show indecision because nothing is awesome enough I need to watch it right now."  She sipped at her latest wine refill and leaned against the wall, eyeing him consideringly.  She was about to guess which shows he did actually keep up with, more or less, when Octavia called for everyone's attention.

"The ball's about to drop in two minutes," she said, waving to the TV she'd just turned on.  "If you have someone to kiss, I suggest you stand nearby," she added saucily, then sidled up to Lincoln to wrap herself around one of his arms.  "Naturally, I'll be standing right here."

That earned a laugh from most of the gathering, though not Clarke's conversation partner for some reason.  He just snorted quietly and turned his attention back to Clarke, offering her a half-shy smile.  

"This might be presumptuous of me, but can I kiss you at midnight?"

She flushed, but grinned and nodded.  "Yes, I'd like that."

And she did.  She'd thought she and Finn had chemistry, but it was nothing compared to whatever was going on between her and this man.  She couldn't believe she was already comfortable around him, even though he was so attractive, her body practically hummed in a near constant state of arousal.

A state heightened when he smiled in return and gently took her wine glass from her to set aside.  Then he moved in close, carefully snaking an arm around her hips while his hand came up to brush at her cheek delicately.  

She draped both arms around his neck, lifting her chin, the corners of her mouth quirking.  "It's not midnight yet."

"I've been dying to kiss you for the past two hours," he revealed in a gravelly voice.  "Ever since you used 'anachronistic' in a sentence.  So sue me if I want to get a head start."

She laughed, curling a hand around the back of his head, her fingers weaving their way through the curls just over the collar of his shirt.  "So get to it," she practically dared him.

His smirk sent a tingle up her spine, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of his lips touching hers, lightly at first, then with more confidence as she responded by tilting her head every so slightly so their masks didn't get in the way.  That first gentle swipe of his tongue, as if asking her permission to deepen the kiss provoked something feral within her, and soon, her tongue danced with his as they kissed their way through the ball dropping in Times Square and the shouts and cheers of the people all around them.

People were halfway through  _ Auld Lang Syne _ before they finally pulled back from each other, ending their kiss and smiling knowingly at one another.

It didn't feel like an ending.

It felt like the start of something great.


End file.
